Fruit Loops
by Boreal Peat
Summary: Once again, Garrus has started over at C-Sec, and once again, a new Commander Shepard has come across his argument with Pallin before meeting the Council. How many times does he have to go through this until he reaches the end-point(s)?
1. Sleep Lengthwise, Diagonal

Disclaimer: I am not in any way affiliated with BioWare, Dark Horse, or with anyone associated with them. This writing is not for profit.

A few of you may be wondering "What about Glass Coffin? Aren't you still working on that? It's been a while." Yes, it has, and I am, but there is a standstill from a very particular reason: I was working on it on a .doc that resides on a flash drive that has been physically ripped apart due to idiocy on my part. I am hoping to recover it (along with another fic I've been working on), but until then, I cannot bring myself to work on those projects (especially a second as-of-yet unknown fic, for it was to be a long one-shot and I was already several pages of labor into it; it was full of feels and angst by design). So, in the meantime, here's a Fruit Loops fic (that's what I call the fanfic trope where the game loops to the beginning that because there are 3 fruity flavors of ending to the loops).

* * *

Garrus did not know what to make of it the second time the encrypted datapad dropped down onto his desk. He felt an overpowering sensation of deja vu, and couldn't help but to look about in confusion at his old office, his old desk, and his old coworker looking at him like he expected him to say something.

Ah, right. The Saren investigation was his problem, now. He powered on the pad and keyed through to access the material. The date of the files, the number of times they were accessed... all that meta-data was there in plain text. He frowned, however, at the size of the file. Far too small, considering everything else. "Damn. Where's the rest of it?"

"He's a Spectre." The other officer shrugged. "We can hardly get more on him than what's public record."

"Yes. Of course. Why would I think it would be any different this time?" He paused a moment at his own words, then continued. "I guess I'll go about gathering what I can find. Let me clean up here and go out to the Presidium."

"Not even going to glance at it? That file still took me a lot of paperwork, you know."

Garrus made a short laugh. "I'll look over it while on the elevator. I could use some light-reading."

"Well, maybe you should look out for that Commander Shepard. Apparently, the human is thinking of making an accusal against him. Might have something for you."

A warm swipe of pleasure came over him. Shepard. She would be here later with the Normandy. _So it's the beginning all over again_. "Has to be better than a pamphlet. Maybe I'll supplement this with some Extranet forum trolling."

The other officer gave a good-natured huff, mentioned something about going out for drinks later, and departed. Garrus did as he said, stacking up reports and filing in more requests for intelligence to help on his case, most of which will likely be ignored. It didn't matter, he knew; the information he needed wasn't going to be available until...

_Hmm..._

It didn't make sense that he should know where his lead would come from, as he knew for a fact that he hadn't met the people involved yet. And, yet, somehow, they felt closer to him today than any of his coworkers did yesterday. It was as if he had a dream last night that lasted four years.

As the day continued and he found himself in queerly familiar footsteps, he had to admit that maybe that's what happened. The farther he went, the clearer the dream was instead of farther away. He remembered friends, shots made, shots taken, ascending, falling, being caught and brought up again...

He remembered love.

Nothing was hazy, save the ending. He had a distinct feeling of everything being... greener, and walking out onto a garden world. Then he remembered being in space as the Normandy split open before him and seeing the Earth—a red-spotted blue sphere—yawning naked before him. And then... he could see himself about to morn the death of his love, and stopping himself.

He didn't know what to make of that, but as he entered the Presidium, ready to argue with Pallin and feeling the excitement of knowing the person that pulled him into the large stage of the world would come (whether this was a repeat or the subject of a prophecy, he didn't care) and pull her along until he tumbled into her arms again.

Somehow, the argument with Pallin still managed to rile him up, so he did not sense the approach of the soon-to-be first human Spectre. But when he laid eyes on them, he was stunned, dumbfounded such that this felt to be the first time his life went off script.

Ashley and Kaiden were at either flank. That much was correct.

In front could _not_ be Commander Shepard. Instead, it was a rough-looking human male he never laid eyes on before. Where was she? He was even told earlier that she was coming.

He pulled up some reference files for his assignment on his visor, to see where Shepard might be notated. A quick-doc on Commander Shepard pulled up. The picture matched what he saw, instead: a human man in N7 armor. Garrus was so dumbfounded that he almost let this new Shepard pass him without a word. Within a second, he regained his footing, introduced himself and put forth his offer, and then ran away.

He almost dreaded seeing him again, and he ended up seeing him sooner than he expected; he popped up on him while helping Dr. Michel, whereas his Shepard didn't really interact with him again until he presented himself to join before she left the Citadel (she had apparently been looking for him but kept just missing him, as he recalled from a later conversation). The surprise almost threw off his shot, but not quite.

Other than that, things played out about the same. The "new" Commander Shepard was just as efficient as his Shepard, but was perhaps a great deal _nicer_ as a person. The Shepard he knew wouldn't bat an eye to kill someone if it meant finishing a mission; this one would put the life first, but it didn't make him incapable of doing his duty.

This Shepard didn't know his tech as well, but he was a powerful biotic who would run face-first into a battle, wielding force like a blunt instrument. Much different than the flank-crazy infiltrator from before, who loved using the layout of a battlefield to her advantage.

All this said, when he got past the fact that this was not _his_ Shepard, and that maybe even if he did remember a different life with her it didn't mean she exists now, he was able to get along with this new Shepard. Hell, this Shepard turned out to be a great friend.

Things did go... differently in some big ways he didn't expect, as well. Kaiden died, but Ashley lived. Several human ships were destroyed, but the council was saved. Liara didn't run sobbing from the Captain's quarters before the final drop. Dr. Saleon still died, but Shepard tried to bring him into custody first.

Garrus decided to try his hand at going back into C-Sec this time, instead of Spectre training. That didn't seem to help anything; Shepard still died, and he still ended up finding himself at Omega.

Everything played out from there like a nightmare, right up to and including this new Shepard coming back from the dead just in time for Garrus to lose half of his skull. He hardly felt he could do anything different during those times; they went speedily by him, more like a rehash in a dream than anything real.

That blur brought him to the other side of Omega and into an SR-2 that felt significantly lonelier than the first one; his Commander was a fine friend, but long nights in the battery reminded him of when his human woman would stomp in, pick up his attention and set it down directly on her. The male Shepard had no such troubles; he quickly started something up with Tali and was (thankfully) too engrossed into that to notice Garrus's strange behavior; for instance, how he would stand in the elevator, staring at the button that would bring him to the Loft, trying to will it to bring him to the _correct_ one.

When Shepard stepped into his shot that was meant for Sidonis, he became so angry that he almost shot anyway. _You fucking fake!_ he wanted to cry, _The _real_ Shepard wouldn't have stopped me._

He didn't shoot, but he refused to speak to Shepard for days afterward, "already dead" be damned. _Of course he's already dead... I killed him last time!_

When he became the Hierarchy's Reaper Adviser, it became a very good outlet. Great busy-work, and this time he had more information to work from for these tough questions.

This kinder, more diplomatic Shepard had perhaps not as many resources as the last one, but it didn't seem to matter. The big points played the same. He still won on Rannoch. He still lost on Thessia. They still did the final push towards Earth, even though he wished he could have convinced them to start that way earlier instead of getting distracted by Cerberus.

The Citadel harvested like it did before.

And the encrypted data pad landed on Garrus's desk a third time.

* * *

From then on, Garrus lived his life an uncounted number of times. He became friends with almost every Shepard he met; when a female Shepard came (they turned out to be uncommon), there was a chance she'd show interest in him, and though it was never exactly the same, he accepted them. In a way, he still loved them, because even if they had a different face or fighting style or method of doing business, there was still something quintessentially... _Shepard_ about them. He stopped feeling bad about it.

He eventually found that even if the Shepard of the timeline wasn't interested in him, it didn't mean he'd be alone; Tali came onto him fairly regularly if Shepard didn't go for her, and even if Tali was otherwise occupied, he'd find himself speaking with a turian woman during one of the few shore-leaves.

Garrus eventually gave up on this. He always felt like he was being unfair to Tali if he tried being with her (if not just plain weird), and the shore-leave encounters never had a chance to go anywhere. At least the female Shepards, rare though they may be, had something that felt close to right.

Sometimes he didn't live out all the years over in a row. Sometimes he'd only relive sections, and with different Shepards. He even died a couple of times, so he now had _that_ in common with them. There was one point he kept reliving a particularly hard mission... and _Shepard_ died each time until finally Garrus took matters into his own hands and started throwing explosives into areas where unseen enemies would appear.

Male Shepards were the most common. Many of them looked alike, they tended to be generally nice people, and they tended to like Tali over anyone. Unless they were both xenophobic and inefficient, they would always be good friends.

It was after a string of male Shepards (with the last female being more interested in women) that Garrus found himself particularly frustrated. He'd long given up on Tali and the one-night flings with the same turian woman by that point, but it did nothing for his loneliness. The Shepard he was on now was a good man, a very good friend, though a bit rough around the edges and enjoying being an occasional asshole. On the SR-1, he didn't bite on either Liara or Ashley, but he did seem interested in Kaiden.

Male Shepards into men _weren't_ common, and they never seemed to actually do anything about their interest until after Earth had been invaded. When it came about on this SR-2 that he found himself telling the same old story (he had other stories now, but he can't tell them, because they were all about other Shepards), he tried throwing out the suggestion himself.

Shepard seemed confused, almost as if he wasn't expecting it, but he jumped on the chance immediately. In fact, over the coming weeks, he came onto Garrus pretty heavily after that, constantly visiting the Battery and making... suggestions. When the night came, Garrus tried coming up as he always did, and was struck in the face not only how awkward this whole thing was, but how stupid it all seemed to him. All of Garrus's moves were stupid, everything he said was stupid, and this whole thing of wedging himself into relationships with Shepards over and over again, regardless of how unique each of these Shepards were, as if one was as good as another, was just an asshole move.

As he had this crisis in the middle of the Loft with a bottle of cheap wine in his hand, Shepard sighed and said, "You changed your mind, didn't you."

Garrus blinked, felt sheepish, and looked away in embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"Don't worry, I get it; can't force someone into wanting you when they don't."

The turian almost pulled back, looking at his friend again.

And suddenly, he was telling him everything, from day one, sequence one to now.

Detail after detail, Shepard after Shepard, long night after long night, he left bare everything he was afraid of saying aloud. For fear he'd be seen as insane, for fear he was insane, for fear that he could change something or keep something from changing. He let loose his frustration with the Reapers, how shackled he felt, and how disconnected he was getting.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I keep jumping from one retelling to another, hoping that... I don't know... something happens. Maybe that it doesn't loop again? I'm so sick of starting all over." Garrus sagged. They now sat at the couch. Shepard was watching, listening with interest. "We're going to fight the Collectors, kill them, fight the Reapers, _maybe_ kill them, and then that useless datapad on Saren will land on my desk again. Even if I see _her_ again, what if we live the time, and it just loops in the end and she's gone? I'd shoot myself if I didn't know it'd just take me to the beginning, again."

He dropped his head in his hands, and there it was. Everything was bare, and his friend probably thought he was acting like a fucking lunatic to find an excuse to escape the situation. So, he was a bit surprised when he felt Shepard's hand on his shoulder. He was even more surprised when he said, "Jesus, Garrus, I had no idea anyone other than a Shepard was going through this."

Garrus's eyes flew up. "What?" He paused and the words came around in his head a second time. "_What?_"

"Um, how do I start... Shit, this will take longer than two hours to explain." He rubbed his forehead. "Do you want to save it until after the suicide mission?"

"No. I've memorized the layout. I've even counted the wasps that hit the biotic shield a few times. If I'm distracted, it's because of boredom."

"Alright, I get it."

And so, this Commander Shepard filled Garrus in on what dozens before him had not.

The theory of an infinite number of multiple universes was a well-known one, and one explanation of the theory illustrated these parallel universes as metaphorical "bubbles". The Reapers, which had somehow reduced these infinite universes to (at least, as far as this galaxy's history is concerned) four specific universes, which is exactly the _opposite_ of what parallel universes are supposed to do. This "collapse of bubbles" was so drastic that it caused every universe's Shepard (who had been central to this last choice between these four universes) to meet in the same four points in time. "Points" was almost as literal as you can describe them if you considered Time to be a line, for the Shepards have all met in one of four points that have no "space" within time, no substance—and cannot move past that point.

This idea came about from the more scientifically savvy Shepards who have been able to meet and debate the cause. However, even the smartest Shepards weren't theoretical physicists, so this idea might be as likely as the belief (that admittedly much fewer Shepards held) that these four points are forms of "Heaven" and "Hell".

But even though the Shepards cannot move forward, they have found that they can move semi-freely within the space of the last four years, starting from the first fateful encounter with the Geth on Eden Prime. They could go to several specific events in their past, the easiest being Eden Prime, their deaths, and when the Reapers attacked Earth, but they can only meet other Shepards in the four spots at the other side of The Choice.

"I'm half-tempted to say you're pulling my leg," Garrus responded with a strain on the acerbic side in his sub-vocals after a long pause.

"It's sounds crazy, I know, but you've already stood beside me—err, _us_—through some crazy shit. Is this really so strange considering you've already been living it?"

Garrus huffed enough for his mandibles to clatter against his face. "I guess there's nothing for me to lose in believing you."

"Of course there isn't. Goddamn, I wonder how you got pulled into the loops, too, and why you can't control yours at all. We've always assumed everyone else went through the bottleneck without any trouble, and you blow that theory out of the water. I know the smarter Shepards would _love_ to meet you."

"Not that I wouldn't want to hang out with a near infinite number of you, but there's really only one Shepard I'm interested in finding."

"The way you described her, she's at least one of the more unique ones, so you at least have that going for you. I'd talk about how much you wouldn't believe how similar Shepards can be, but you've probably already seen them." He blinked. "What if one John did some things slightly differently than another and you got dropped between them in their loops? It'd be like, I dunno, talking to a guy with multiple personalities but they're the same personality. God, that hurts my head thinking about it."

"What good does it for me to know she's 'unique'? I can't get to those four points like you can. Once you go into the beam, I'll be on the Citadel, just like every time before."

Shepard scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "Lemme think about that and get back to you."

* * *

After getting pulled up into the Normandy with the exploding Collector base behind them, Shepard came up to Garrus, beaming.

"I thought of something!"

Garrus looked at him in open confusion, and other crew members did as well. Shepard made an abashed "oh" and beckoned Garrus to speak with him somewhere a little more private and continued, "Okay, you know the four points I told you about? Well, I think I might be able to get you to the green one."

"...The green one?"

"Er, yeah. Long story. Anyway, three of the choices I really don't know if I can get you into, because of how the Catalyst phrases it..."

"The Catalyst phrases... does the Catalyst _talk?_"

"Damnit, I told you I gave you the Reader's Digest version. I'll get to all that later. One of the choices—just know we call it the 'green' choice, it'll be pretty clear why that is later—is achieved by Shepards throwing themselves into a beam of energy that... okay, let's not get into what it does, but just know that it's a lot more accessible to two people than the other options." He beamed again. "See where I'm getting at?"

"You think I can get to one of these 'points' along with you? …Do you think she would be there?"

"Maybe, and even if she isn't, I'm sure some of the other Shepards wouldn't mind going back out into the loop to the other points and spreading the word. If she's at any of the points, we'll find her."

Garrus frowned. "I see a problem in this plan."

"Getting you to the beam. I know. I'm still working on that one. Not to mention some of the shit after that. We're going to have to pour over the mission parameters to figure this out. Luckily, I have a long incarceration coming up to think this over."


	2. Hershey

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Update on GC and as-of-yet-unnamed-oneshot: The jury is in from data restoral, and they cannot restore the information from the flash drive. When it was damaged, it pulled up the gold bases of the solder points, and they were unable to get the data connections to work (they were, however, able to get the power to work, which lead them to believe it was either a lack of gold contact OR a power surge at the time of damaging). Restoral would mean at the very least some talented (and likely expensive) micro-soldering, and it may still not work. This does NOT mean, however, that I am giving up on GC! This does mean it will take longer, however, since I have to rewrite the whole chapter. This is more annoying for the long oneshot I was working on because GODDAMNIT I WAS LIKE 7 PAGES INTO IT AND IT WAS MOSTLY PARAGRAPHS.

Oh well. *cracks fingers*

* * *

During Shepard's incarceration, Garrus went through the motions that would get him that same position as a high-ranked adviser like he had many times before. Over the cycles, he has learned enough about the Reapers that he may even be considered a foremost expert, so he no longer had any of the hesitance he once had to request supplies and to give advice when needed; hell, he'd been a part of this war longer than he'd experienced the rest of his life by this point. He should be old and bitter (and a part of him really was), but he still had to play the part of the young adviser to the highest generals.

If you were to lay his experience out in a line, his current mission (to find His Shepard) wasn't much different from a man trying to track down his boot-camp sweetheart after going through several years of relationships. And he knew how those situations ended up, too; even if they find their lover, they either misremembered how perfect they were, or the parties have changed so much that they are no longer compatible.

He had to shove that out of his mind.

Victus, these past few cycles, had begun to get suspicious of his behavior and knowledge, but in none of the cycles had he managed to have enough time to put things together (and even if he had, he can hardly cut off the help that he was getting from it). Any suspicions he may have had, he kept to himself, and this time looked to be no different.

That didn't help the sting when Victus slid distrustful eyes towards him when he thought he wasn't looking. They had been good friends before, but the past few cycles had seen him distant. So, as always, when Shepard came to Menae, he was eagerly happy, if only because he could speak with someone who _got_ it.

The fight against the brute went like it always did, and Victus, overwhelmed by his new position, came onto the ship without any complaint. But the real discussion didn't come until Shepard came into the Battery as Garrus was, as usual, fixing all the damage the Alliance had managed on the ship.

"So," he didn't even look up as he spoke, "Did you think of anything during your vacation?"

"A few options. I've been pretty eager to run them past you. First, let's start with the beam approach. How do you feel about that?"

Garrus frowned. "How it typically plays out, someone will get hit on the way up. I can dodge it, but we'd need to abandon the third. Is that really something you want to do?"

"Honestly, it's beyond me why I'd be calling the _Normandy_ down in that situation, anyway, so that may be the most realistic option. We can't 'no-man-left-behind' this when, well, we're leaving _everybody_ behind, anyway."

"That's true," Garrus said, "Though it doesn't seem like a typical option for you."

"Which is why I want it to be last resort. We could reduce the party to two, since it will be reduced, anyway."

"Maybe, but that final push is difficult. What else have you got?"

A grin split Shepard's features. "This one's my favorite. Remember how we got to the Citadel the first time we saved it?"

Garrus crunched his face in thought a moment before they exploded in disbelief. "We are _not_ going to drive a Mako into that beam! Would that even _work?_"

"Probably. What, you don't like the Mako?"

"No, I just know _you_ will be driving it. Why is it all the Shepards that can't drive are so happy to do it?"

"Now, I'm offended. I never thought you would be the sort of person to stereotype."

"There are Shepards that can drive, _Commander_, but you are not one of them."

"You're getting grumpy in your old age. Whatever happened to that idealistic young cop?"

"You've been spending too many of your loops talking to Joker. What _else_ do you have?"

"The others are approaching the problem from a different angle." Shepard held up a finger. "One: trying to already be on the Citadel in the first place. Sounds like the simplest, but there's a reason C-Sec wasn't able to just shut down the whole operation on their end by just being there, let alone the various military personnel that will be floating in and out of the place."

He held up a second finger. "Two: I'm never the only one that gets there in any of the cycles, but I am one of the few. The others are Anderson and the Illusive Man, and they had to have gotten on somehow. This option I suspect takes the most reconnaissance work, and I doubt it would be the _safest_, but it is probably the _surest_."

"Hmm. That could be interesting. Wish you came up with it while we still had more access to Cerberus records, but we've got something we can work with."

* * *

"So, you and the commander are pretty close, right?"

Garrus looked up to Cortez from the weapons maintenance station, hardly hearing him. "Oh, yeah, we've always been pretty good friends."

"Yeah, you seem it. It's like you're always in the loft when your not at work. Or am I... misinterpreting something?"

_Oh!_ "Ah, we discuss tactics for the most part. Sometimes there are numbers I like to run in front of the commander to get a good foundation on before bringing them in front of Victus. Seeing as this is the 'central hub for anti-Reaper movement', I figure not wasting the extra set of eyes would help."

"I'm just saying, it was rumored that, well-"

"I know, and I really didn't do anything about those rumors." Garrus made a huff. "I won't lie; we tried once, but I guess I couldn't get into it. I only even tried because he, well, reminded me of somebody?"

"'Somebody', huh?"

"Yeah, she... it's been some years since I've seen her. I don't even know where she is right now, but I've been thinking, maybe after all this is over..."

Cortez had a grin split his face, with a tinge of hope and a tinge of sadness. "You need to be careful that thinking about her doesn't eat you up. I have a feeling keeping connected after this war is going to be difficult. But I am curious about this woman that reminds you of our Commander Shepard."

Garrus almost laughs at that. "Beautiful. Deadly." Then he adds, endearingly, "A bit of a terrible person." The sort of Shepard she was, according to the Shepard upstairs, was likely what they called "renegade", who were ruthless compared to the moral "paragon" Shepards. Garrus asked him which Shepard he was and was answered "Technically, I'm a 'paragade', but I hate that term. It makes me sound like some sort of sports drink".

"Yeah, I can see a little resemblance, there. Anything else strike at you?"

Garrus was somehow flat-footed at that, still thinking over how "paragade" would sound like a drink, and blurted out the first thing he could think of. "...They have the same name?"

The pause before the spit of laughter was a short but pointed one. "S-sorry, just trying to imagine a female turian named 'Hershel'."

_Hershel? Huh, is that this Shepard's first name?_ "Well, pretty similar, anyway. It means, uh, 'spirit conduit' in an old home language." He decided he'd have to remember that name; even though things had been easier on his sanity to this point to avoid every Shepard's first name, it may end up being a way to differentiate them a little bit (or at least separate them from the Johns and Janes).

"That so? Well, good luck getting there."

"You too."

* * *

"What the fuck did you just call—no. No, no, no, no. No one calls me that. Too 'Mindior Rabbinical School'. I don't need that shit on _any_ _Normandy_."

"Then I get to call you 'Paragade', instead."

"You fucking—no, you know what? Fine. But only you can call me that, and I better as shit never hear you call me that when there are people around. And don't expect that all the other Shepards will be as nice as I am about it."

"I'm aware, _Hershel_."

Shepard frowned sourly and started pulling up some docs on his omnitool to view. "I'm still working on the stowaway plan, and I'm pretty much investing into the Illusive Man on this; you getting to Anderson is going to be as hard as you staying with me, I believe. I've been working with Liara to get as much information as I can on the Cronos Station, since it's not like I memorized the navigation coordinates. I remember it was by Anadius, but that's not a small area, and EDI always mentions that active scans revealing the Normandy's presence. We need to sneak you on with Cerberus personnel."

"I may have spent many years of service on a Cerberus vessel, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be able to blend in."

"You don't have to blend in with the personnel—just the cargo they might be carrying."

"I don't think I'll like this."

"If it fails, all you have to do is survive long enough for us to raid the station, and you're pretty good at surviving terrible odds."

"Don't appeal to my ego. It doesn't work anymore." Garrus huffed. "What kind of cargo will I be posing as?"

"I'm hoping to get a scan jammer to make a large crate show you as a shipment of something innocuous—food, cleaning supplies, repair parts—instead of a pissed-off stowaway aiming to use the Illusive Man as a convenient transport to the Beam. If that doesn't work, we can try the prisoner method, but considering the experiments they try to run..."

"Yes, we _definitely_ want to avoid that, even though it might be fun to trash more of their labs."

The commander sighed. "Your Shepard is so lucky. You sure you wouldn't be interested in an old fashioned Hershey chocolate bar?" He leered.

"Maybe you should look downstairs for that," Garrus scoffed, "I have a feeling Cortez would be more than interested."

"Ah, right." He turned quiet and his smile evaporated to the strange blank place-holder of an expression that all Shepards had. "Cortez. Yeah."

Garrus couldn't help but blink at that. "Going for Kaiden this time around?"

"Huh? No! I mean, uh..." Shepard stretched out his shoulder. "After finding out is at least one _Garrus_ running around in several cycles, I can't help but wonder... Maybe you have the right idea in staying single for the time being."

"All due respect," he said, his brows furrowing, "Just because I'm staying single doesn't mean you shouldn't be happy."

"Yeah, but, now I'm realizing that maybe it isn't just the Shepards, and I wonder if I'm better off looking for _my_ first Cortez instead."

Garrus kept his mandibles tight in a frown. "I might be an anomaly. Or it might be something I share with other, uh, Garruses. But I do know even though Shepards change, Cortezes are the same. The first one you met may not be possible to even meet again. If you're worried about this Cortez not being Your Cortez... _make_ him Your Cortez. Have _him_ drive the damn Mako into the beam. Then we can all jump into the green energy together."

Hershel grinned again. "Weren't we dumping that plan in favor of Cerberus?"

"Just because I'll be stowing away behind the Illusive Man doesn't mean it isn't a good idea to predetermine who will be in the driver's seat."

* * *

Garrus thought he had lucked out with how large the shipping crate ended up being, until he saw how much space the signal blocker took up.

The signal blocker was a thick gridded frame meant to simulate to scanners contents containing a shipment of human nutrient—in this case, soy protein—meant to supplement the demand for the increased personnel that the station's own greenhouses could not yet keep up with. The algorithm to simulate readings that would be given for particles of plant matter was simple enough, but to be able to be read as such from each of the six sides required fields be set up for each of the sides (a smaller, simpler field generation was likely possible, but they did not have the material or the time to draw one up).

The field required the walls be "padded" with thirty centimeters thick of field and the 35 centimeters out of welded grid to facilitate the fields and weights to bring the contents up to a precise measurement simulating the proper weight for the shipment. Within that ran a generator, a sound suppressor (for the motor connected to the generator) and a small oxygen synth that broke down his respiration into breathable air as efficiently as possible.

Oh, and a chair. With a seatbelt. To suspend himself among these fields and machines and not interfere with them.

Commander Hershel Shepard was smiling the biggest shit-eating smile he could manage. "You have enough dextro-bars in your pockets?"

"Your pick-up lines are getting stranger the longer I know you, Commander."

"Hey, I'm sort of serious, here. I am _genuinely_ concerned for you."

"I'm not going to be comfortable, but I'll be fine as long as this isn't the first box they open."

Tali worked some last-minute numbers on her omnitool. "Liara says he'll be tucked away in the middle of the shipment, so I doubt they'll get to him for a while. Everything should be ready, but I wish you two would tell me what is going on."

"Sorry, Tali," Shepard's voice went all business, "I'm afraid until we're done with the Reapers, this operation with have to stay as quiet as possible." Which is, to say, this universe's Tali will _never_ know. "We're risking a lot telling as many people as we already have. This is as secret as missions can get."

"I understand, but I can't help but wonder... is this _really_ about the Reapers?"

There was a pause, and Garrus managed to react first. "Let's put it this way: if it weren't for the Reapers, we wouldn't be doing this. Will you be sending me the schematics in case I need to do any repairs?"

"Like _you_ need to repair _my_ work." Tali swiped some screens over and Garrus felt the slight vibration of a message received on his own omnitool. In truth, he wanted to pour over it. Memorize it—maybe improve upon it—in case he had to go through this whole ordeal all over again.

"Seriously, though, be careful," Shepard said.

"Of course."


	3. Let's Keep Goin!

Disclaimer: Chapter one.

This one's a little shorter, even though it took a while to finish, but it HAD to end where it did, because the next chapter is a rapid tone and setting shift.

* * *

Garrus was not careful enough.

The shipment was fine; a good length of it had him stored in micro-gravity, so being stored on his side or upside down wasn't an issue. The scans and checks once reaching Cronos went off without a hitch as well. He even got down from where he was strapped and hanging sideways without banging any equipment or bulkheads. It was when he exited the box right into a passing Cerberus guard that he had his mistake.

He had managed to shoot the agent dead (from the hip! ha!) and drag him into the crate he had come out of, but it would be only a matter of time before someone would find a gap in the roster, and Garrus had several days, he supposed, before the Illusive Man would slip away from the _Normandy_. Garrus did not have the liberty of acting fast to avoid detection.

The layout that he already knew of the station did help somewhat, but everything outside of the particular path he had gone down far too many times was a new, dangerous passageway that he was going blind into. It was the first truly new mission he'd had in years, and he was strangely happy to be thrown into uncertain odds, again. Still, it was enough to make him splice and hack into a terminal to get a map.

Heavy armor didn't facilitate well for crawling in the duct-work, but many of the shafts were more than wide enough for him (it was just a matter of not falling all the way to the bottom of them). The base had a lot of boots on board, and despite its size, was over capacity, so his movements were choked in a constant battle of "hurry up and wait". Sometimes it would take hours just to move thirty meters, so when there was a point where he could go through a landing bay with no guards uncomfortably near, he took it despite the risk that it may crack open on either end and throw him into vacuum. The gamble won him the most distance in his whole stay, getting him to the other side of the station.

With some watching and listening, he was able to locate and enter one of the personal quarters of the Illusive Man.

It should come as no surprise that a man who insisted on the Captain's Quarters in the _Normandy_ to have as many luxuries as it did to have several private rooms with as many lavish qualities as they had. And yet, even though he recognized the hum of air scrubbers in each of them, there was still a faint scent of smoke on everything.

"Here we go," he muttered to himself as he walked up to a personal terminal. He stretched his neck and wrung his wrists a little, muscles cramped from the constant engagement for the past several hours. Then he was immediately on the keyboard and in the systems. Not a lot of information was on this particular terminal, however, he was lucky enough to be able to access the personal emails where the memos would be sent. He went rooting through the Outbox.

The notes numbered in the hundreds, all short and lacking in context. Sorting though them would take a long period of time. He did not have this time, he found out, but luckily, the very memo that let him know this was the only one he really needed. It was only an order indicating that a certain corvette must be ready. The set time to be ready by was twenty minutes away, and the docking bay was nearly a kilometer away.

"Fuck."

* * *

If he ever does this again, he's going to have to learn to use a tactical cloak, because killing every guard he came across alone was slow work, though it was still quicker than his earlier walk through the station.

After eradicating a squad (and their backup), he had to move quickly, taking winding paths whenever he can in hopes he can avoid or bottleneck any hostiles. A lucky thing was that Hershel would soon be attacking, if wasn't already, so the added distraction will just confuse the reports even more, so long as he doesn't trip up into an ambush meant for a squad of three.

At least killing Cerberus mooks was fun. Whenever he hit one through the letterbox in their shield, he'd remember His Shepard's glee whenever she did the same thing. Strange to feel a little tenderness and nostalgia in a gunfight, but when that's been your life for so long, perspective changes a little.

His press continued on until he was able to dodge through towards the bay. The corvette was getting fueled and supplied, door wide open to anyone who wanted to enter.

And a few agents milling around. _Shit_.

Garrus was confident that if it came to bullets, Cerberus-grade indoctrination or no, he would come out on top. But the mission wasn't to kill the Illusive Man and his color guard, and would be made damn near pointless if he did. The Illusive Man would die in the end, anyway, but he got to the Citadel first and _that_ was what mattered here. How was he going to...

One of the crates unlatched accidentally as a serviceman bumped into it with a loaded lift. The contents (some ship repair supplies for their push past the Reapers, he recognized) spilled out.

Damn it all to hell. At least they won't be scanning their own packages before lift off.

* * *

Why the hell does this little corvette need a gravity field? Sure, it's standard on most manned ships, but Garrus was about up to here with all this banging around ("here" being the volume the container he was in could carry). Worst thing was, he couldn't risk leaving this cramped box early, since a repeat of before would have been a disaster on a lightly-manned ship like this, and there was no way of knowing what was going on outside. He was basically just going to have to make an educated guess.

He activated his omnitool from time to time, to see how long it was until the final assault on Earth. This only gave him so much to work with, since he had no idea when the Illusive Man reached the Citadel (he could only assume "before Shepard").

After what seemed like hours, the rattling around stopped, and he was still for a long time. His ears picked up the soft hum of a mass effect field as it rumbled softly through the floor below him. Well, the ship was running, they must be in route. Still too early to escape. He became uncharacteristically agitated. He imagined what the Citadel would look like; Hershel described the piles of bodies and the milling Keepers, the child-like Catalyst, the three points of energy that collapsed the multiverse. He told himself it was to go over tactical options, but he admitted it a lie when he attempted to see His Shepard in this mental image.

Would she be there on the other side of the green light? Would she recognize him as her own Garrus? That brought up another uncomfortable thought: what if he was just one of a line of Garruses for her, or, even just a dalliance outside of her normal choice. It didn't _feel_ like she considered him one of many, but most of the Shepards could be good actors when they wanted to be, and she wasn't an exception.

He felt a shiver that must've run through the entire ship. They must be getting close. After a long moment of listening, he pressed slowly on the inner lid and exited the cramped space.

A visored-helmet on the other side tilted down to lock on him.

_...Damnit!_

"What the-" The guard didn't get to speak another word before Garrus noisily scrambled out and rushed him, aiming to arrest his throat. The fight was thankfully short and without gunfire—that would have been much more attention-grabbing than a scuffle—and afterward he cursed himself.

It wasn't that Garrus was so terrible at sneaking; it was that he tended to stay far away enough that being unseen was more a practice of patience than dexterity, and he was getting a little sick of his lack of skill in this area. Sure, he wasn't Thane or Kasumi, and he had no wish to really become either, but this was just getting ridiculous.

Luckily, he didn't need to do much more damage control after this point. He felt the rough docking of a small ship with no couplers to attach to, and heard a strange, loud sound echo through the ship. Strange, in that it sounded like a wail a human may make, but came at once, from several places, with several voices.

He chanced looking out and saw the Illusive Man holding some of his own men in a biotic field. They were all struggling, and the man himself had a strange, crazed look in his eye and new augmentations that more than a little reminded him of Saren.

Disturbing imagery aside, this was an excellent diversion to slip out. He wondered if the Illusive Man would even notice that one of his soldiers were missing in this state.

* * *

Garrus had always felt he knew the Citadel well. Even after the chaos following Saren's attack and subsequent rebuilding, he was able to maneuver around with very little issue. The knowledge helped, but he found that many of the areas that had before been wide spaces had shifted, whereas narrower or less accessible areas had widened to allow more room for the Keepers to mill about. Grisly work of piling mostly human corpses for processing sat at every edge of his vision.

Still, he only had the vague directions of Hershel to rely on in finding the place in question, this control room to go up to the Catalyst. These directions were more than enough, he found, because once he stumbled into the control room, it was very clear that he was in the right place.

The next problem was finding a nice place to set up his gun and not be immediately seen by the Illusive Man once he enters. The room was broad and with a low ceiling, any part that wasn't easily seen was separated from the floor by a vast chasm and with not much in the way of footing. Simply put, it just wasn't going to work.

He went over to the console and looked over the controls. Hershel mentioned one of the floor panels rises him above, and looking closer, a lot of the floor panels look like they can separate with little issue. It took a few attempts at messing with the interface to figure out how to manipulate it, but it didn't take long for him to pull up and away one of the tiles and make a nice sniping post for himself.

After that, he merely had to turn on his comm and wait. Anderson came first, nearly stumbling in and telling unnecessary direction to Hershel. The commander entered soon after, followed by the newly-biotic Illusive Man. It only took the time to line up the shot and squeeze the trigger to take him out, startling Anderson and making Hershel nearly jump out of his skin.

Garrus waved from his post when they finally found him. "If you don't mind, could you bring me back in? I'm a little stuck out here."

Hershel looked like twenty kinds of warmed-over Hell's leftovers, so Anderson was moderately more spry at the moment and quicker to get to the console as directed. But once Garrus did touch down, the commander was pulling him into the biggest bear-hug he could possibly muster.

'When Garrus pulled away, he made a show of looking around. "Say, where's Cortez? I thought you'd be bringing him."

Hershel's bright face fell. "He didn't make it." Before that could sober the mood, however, "Nevermind that. More importantly, do you realize what you've done? What you've _changed?_"

"It's more than just me, but you look like you're about to pass out. Let's get upstairs."

* * *

The Catalyst did not appear to Garrus as how Hershel described—a human child—but as a woman from the Citadel who died as a result of Dr. Saleon's experiments. Garrus mentioned as such, and Anderson himself admitted that his illusion was someone from the refinery destroyed by Saren during the fateful mission they shared two decades past. This was mostly a passing curiosity, because the three choices set before them were the same.

Anderson was absolutely for destruction, but Hershel and Garrus already knew the answer they had to take.

"Why? How is this any better than what Saren was attempting to achieve?" the man bit as vehemently as he could in his state.

"Sir... with all due respect," Hershel started, and perhaps paused with a thought on what Ash said that phrase meant, "we don't have time. I don't know what will happen in the long term... but I do know that this-" He gestured to the green beam of light. "-is the only chance... we have..."

The older man blinked, confused as to what Hershel had meant. Garrus shook his head and pulled the commander onto his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get going."

They hobbled together towards the light and stopped at the edge, where Hershel removed his arm from around Garrus to stand on his own power again. "I've lost count of how many times I've ran into this thing. Or grabbed the control bars. Or shot at... anything in this room."

"Well, it's all new to me."

"Yeah... it's pretty new... this time around." He held out his hand. "Think we'll meet on the other side?"

Garrus took his friend's hand and laughed. "Just like old times."

"Ha. You clever son of a bitch. At three. One... two...

"_Three!_"

And so they jumped, hand-in-hand.


End file.
